Light A Fire
by Moonlit Dreaming
Summary: Ann has a very important letter to write, but finds that she isn't great with words. She enlists the help of her friend, Mary, and ends up confronting her feelings, too. Writing Festival entry. MFoMT, Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** Harvest Moon is **not** mine.

**Author's note: **This oneshot is my entry to this month's Writing Festival at the Village Square Forum. The theme for this month was Summer and I couldn't think of a more fitting pair than Kai and Ann. :) Plus, I'd been meaning to write another Kai x Ann oneshot, and the chosen prompt provided the perfect opportunity. Technically, this continues from my other Kai x Ann stories **Closing Time **and **Opening Time**, but it stands alone, as they all do. Enjoy!

Light A Fire

Ann had never really been one for putting pen to paper. She wasn't much of a writer - especially when compared to her highly skilled best friend, Mary. Elli, too, could buckle down and whiz through her paperwork when she wanted to, while Karen had been known to jot down the occasional moody poem through her teenage years. Even Popuri, the most youthful girl in town, was a frequent doodler.

As a result, the fiery waitress felt rather daunted by the idea of penning a letter. She was far better at expressing herself through words or - more commonly - actions. It was amazing how a quick _whack_ to the back of the head could halt Cliff's mumbled stutterings. Still... she bore him and Claire no ill anymore. Mostly.

The blank, white page in front of Ann was utterly uninspiring. She sat in her bedroom for hours, just staring and staring at it, before finally caving in and punching Mary's number into the telephone beside her bed.

"Mary?" she bleated into the reciever, sounding more than a little pathetic. "It's not working at all. I just... I know what I want to say, but it won't come out right. So... could you help me? _Please?"_

There was an amused sigh at the other end of the line. "What happened to 'going it alone' and 'I don't need anyone's help'?" Mary asked calmly. Ann could almost perfectly picture the grin on her friend's face.

"I - I've had a bit of a re-think," she mumbled sheepishly, hoping very much that Mary could envision the look on _her_ face right now. It was an apologetic one.

After a brief pause, in which Ann could almost hear the librarian's undoubtedly huge brain ticking over, Mary replied that she'd be right over. "And I'll bring my best fountain pen," she added, before putting the phone down, "because I doubt that old biro you were chewing earlier is up to much."

"I'm not a pen-chewer!" Ann retorted, only to find that the line had gone dead. She glanced down at the bite marks on the implement in her hand and blushed guiltily. But she felt she had some excuse. Writing was a hungry business, after all. The problem was, she hadn't _actually_ done any.

Within minutes, help arrived in the form of a short, bespectecaled librarian. Ann had never been more pleased to see her. She quickly ushered her friend into the back room, grabbing two glasses of orange juice on the way. Mary, she noticed, was armed with her trademark notepad and an impressively shiny, black fountain pen - her usual weapons of choice.

Ann nibbled her thumbnail worriedly, as Mary made herself comfortable on the bed. "Sorry about dragging you out into the snow," she said, noticing the white flakes sprinkled in her friend's jet black hair.

But Mary shook her head. "No matter," she replied, business-like, crumpling up Ann's solitary sheet of paper and throwing it into the bin with surprising skill. "Sit down, then, Ann," she added, opening her book to a blank page. "It's a real pity you don't have a proper desk."

"Well, my Dad has, but unless you _like_ old-sock smell, that's out of the question."

"Fair enough," Mary grinned, her grey eyes gleaming. "I don't think I could live without my desk, you know. I love having somewhere quiet and peaceful to reflect. D'you know what I mean?"

Quiet? _Peaceful?!_ Huh, that was a joke! Ann could barely even recall such ludicrous things! Any words that happened to suggest rest or relaxation had surely been crossed out of her father's personal dictionary. In fact, he probably didn't have a dictionary. After all, there could be no time for reading or writing in the Doug Williams program of non-stop toil and torture. Goddess forbid.

But she pulled a face and said quite airily, "Actually, I don't have much time for peace and quiet in my line of work, Mary."

"As a waitress you mean?"

"Er_, extremely_ professional chef, if you don't mind," Ann corrected mock indignantly.

Unfortunately, Mary refused to play along. "Extremely professional?" she spluttered. "While I must admit that you make the most sublime cheese fondue I've ever tasted, I can hardly call your attitude to work professional." Ann bit her tongue, dreading what she was about to hear next. "You always let people stay after closing time to finish arm wrestling competitions and drinking games - "

"They're fun!" Ann protested.

"But it's always you who instigates them. And you always, _always _win!"

"What can I say? I'm brilliant."

Mary rolled her eyes expressively, then returned to the paper smoothed out in front of her. "Now," she began, "how do you wish to begin?"

Sobering in an instant, Ann perched nervously on the edge of the bed. Her concerns increased tenfold when Mary pressed the smooth fountain pen into her hand. Jokes and bravado were easy; intimacy, though, was a wall blocking her way. _"Dear Kai,"_ she suggested. "That seems like a sensible place to start, doesn't it?"

"Yes, traditionally speaking," Mary answered. Ann could feel her friend's amused grin on the back of her neck as she scrawled Kai's name at the top of the page. She finished with a proud flourish and paused, waiting for a rush of inspiration that never came. This writing business - or, as Mary called it 'the creative process' - was tiring work. Two words and she was already bored. Or if not bored, scared... maybe.

"What next?"

Mary shook her head slowly. "I don't know, Ann. I can help you, but I can't _tell _you. Write what _you_ feel you should." At Ann's blank expression, she suggested, "Why don't you ask him about his travels, what he's been up to, even what the weather's like?"

_Why don't I indeed? _Ann thought grimly. She shuffled uncomfortably, her eyes darting towards her pillow at the end of the bed. And Mary, ever-perceptive, couldn't help noticing. Reluctantly, Ann reached beneath the folds of her pillowcase and produced a sheaf of paper, softened and worn from constant re-reading. "Here," she sighed. "It arrived early in the autumn. He always said he'd write, but I wasn't expecting a letter that soon. I meant to reply, I did, it just didn't happen for some reason. He left return addresses; where he'd be after certain dates, you know... but only until the 20th of Winter."

There was a short silence in which Mary chewed her bottom lip. It was the 15th today. "You don't do things by halves, do you, Ann?" she said eventually, and accepted the letter.

_"Ann," _she read under her breath, _"How are things in Mineral Town? I know you won't believe me, but I do miss it when I'm away. Honestly; don't laugh! Right now, I consider a lively fishing village with an excellent Inn to be my current home. Don't worry, though, the cooking isn't a patch on yours! It's, well, dazzling here; there's really no other word for it. The views, the weather, the whole place is just perfect. I know you'd love it, Ann, what with that sunny personality of yours. Again: don't laugh!" _

_"I'd better leave it there for now - I've got a small job helping out on a hotdog stand, so it's not all fun and relaxation. Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you (and Mineral Town!) soon. See you, Kai."_

By the time she had finished reading, Mary's voice was less than a whisper. She looked up, blinking sluggishly as though re-awakened. "Wow, he's got a beautiful way with words, hasn't he?"

Ann nodded. "Oh yes," she agreed, unhappily. It was easy, after hearing Kai's letter brought to life, to forget about the snow swirling down beyond the window pane and the ice that laced the paths outside. She forced herself to remember that the room was lit, not by the glare of summer sunshine, but by the flames dancing greedily in the hearth.

Only when Mary leant over to return the letter, did Ann's mind finally focus. Her friend patted the other, newer, _blank_ sheet of paper. "Just write what _you_ feel," she repeated, "not what you feel _he _wants."

Pen met paper once again; no ink flowed. Ann let out a typical melodramatic sigh, causing Mary to roll her eyes. "It's no use," she complained, almost wishing she hadn't invited someone so accomplished to help; it was getting embarrassing. "I'm just... not all that good with words."

"You don't have to be!" Mary answered, in a tone that left Ann convinced that she was pushing her friend towards breaking point. And sure enough: "Ann. You're not penning a bloody best-seller here, you're just _replying_ to a damn letter."

Ann raised her eyebrows and carefully forced back a giggle. "You said bloody," she pointed out needlessly. "And damn. _You _don't swear!"

"Evidently, I do when you're around." Mary massaged her temples wearily, but when she looked up she was smiling in spite of herself. "Talk about a storm in a tearcup, Ann," she muttered ruefully. "Look, just reply to what he's said, it's not that hard. '_I look forward to hearing from you (and Mineral Town!) soon.' _So go on; tell him what's been happening here."

_Now_ that, Ann mused,_ could be more interesting_. She felt a twitch in the corner of her lips. Gossip? _That _she could certainly manage. What barmaid - sorry, _extremely professional chef _- couldn't? Putting pen to paper for the _third _time, Ann found that for once her thoughts translated onto the page with a sudden ease; simply being herself, it seemed, was a lot less complicated than pretending to be someone she wasn't.

_Hey Kai, _she wrote_, Sorry for the obvious and inexcuseable lateness of this letter. Life's been CRAZY here!!! As usual, I've been working non-stop; you know what Dad's like!! It's snowing outside and damn cold, too. You remember SNOW, don't you? Pretty, white stuff that falls from the sky? It's good fun, actually, which you'd know if you weren't constantly running away from it - _

Beside her, Mary let out a little whimper. This was the second such uttering, so Ann felt obliged to acknowledge it. "What?" she asked, exasperated.

"Um, I was just wondering why you'd chosen to capitalise 'crazy'... and 'snow'?"

Ann stared at her. "It's not _favouritism,_ Mary, if that's what you're thinking. I like the other words just as much - "

" - It's not grammatically correct, either," the librarian explained. "That was my point."

"So?" Ann tried not to laugh; _typical _bookworm... "Kai's not going trawl through it looking for spelling mistakes, is he? He doesn't care! Anyway, you told me to be, well, _me_. I can't help it if bold is my middle name." She guessed what was coming next, and added fiercely, "And if_ anyone _finds out it's actually Callista, then I'll know who blabbed!"

"I think it's a lovely name," Mary mumbled, but she got the point. "Fine. You write what _you _want, Ann. Just... go a little easier on the exclamation marks? Please?"

"Yes, teacher... "

_- I think you might like winter, Kai, if you just gave it a chance. Honestly. The food's not bad either, especially in Mineral Town. Warm cookies, porridge and my Dad makes the best cocoa I've ever tasted. It's THAT great!_

_The fishing village sounds lovely. You never did mention its name? Anyway, I expect you've moved on from there by now. Tell me about your new place, wherever it is. I bet it's sunny and exotic and nothing at all like the scene outside my bedroom window right now. I'd tell you about Mineral Town, but there's really nothing much to say. Nothing new to report: Manna'll still talk your ear off given half a chance, Duke's still drinking, Dad's still a workaholic - _

"Ann," Mary chipped in nervously, "I don't think that's entirely appropriate."

_- and Mary's still my awesome, amazing best friend (yes...she's in the room). Well, I think that's just about everything I have to say. _

_Hoping your reply will be a lot speedier than mine,_

_Ann _

* * *

Much to Ann's embarrassment and delight, Kai's reply _was_ a great deal prompter than her's. Within a week of sending off her letter, Harris turned up the Inn on his postal route. This was a rare occurence in itself; her father recieved mail once in a blue moon, and usually only from far-flung relatives he had no desire to contact. Ann recognised the writing at once and sprinted along the streets to Mary's Book Tower, where she found her friend opening up for the day.

"I wonder what he's up to now?" Mary mused, as they eagerly stepped inside. It was the first time Ann had ever associated eagerness with a _library_. But Kai's letter was like their little escape on a gloomy, grey Mineral Town morning, and therefore the exception to the rule.

She made herself comfortable amongst the stacks of books and piles of paper on Mary's desk, and read aloud.

Kai was writing from a beach, of all places. Ann shivered in unison with Mary, as she imagined going to the beach today - presuming, of course, she was able wade through the snow to get there. The thought of frosted sand and waves the colour of steel made her shudder again.

The place Kai described, though, conjured up images far beyond the four walls of the bleak little library. He told tales of brilliant turquoise oceans, vast blue skies and light fluffy clouds. The room was clearly aglow, yet no fire was lit. When Ann finished reading, both girls let out long, wistful sighs.

"Who knew Kai could be so poetic," Mary remarked, a note of admiration evident in her voice.

"He's probably not even trying to be," Ann laughed. "I think we just miss the summer. I know I do!"

For a long time, Mary didn't answer. She shuffled her papers and wiped her glasses on her skirt, as a tiny, _knowing _smile played on her lips. "You miss _him,"_ she corrected, and it was true.

Ann's eyes slid towards the window where the snow fell in tight spirals. The scene was just as captivating as it had always been. Mary was totally right; it wasn't the sunshine she wanted, it was Kai.

* * *

Letters were exchanged thick and fast through the remainder of winter and into the spring. Ann's stories of Mineral Town grew ever more exaggerated, but she made sure that there was some truth to them. For instance, while Claire hadn't actually comitted a 'poultry massacre', as Ann so bluntly put it, several chickens _had_ died in a short space of time in what she deemed suspicious circumstances. Old age? Ann didn't buy that old rubbish for a second.

And her father hadn't _exactly_ threatened to 'lock her up for months' when she mixed up those orders, but he'd probably wanted to.

Thankfully, Kai seemed to find her letters amusing. A good thing too, considering how she continued to resort to silliness whenever nerves attacked. _Why_ she was so nervous, Ann couldn't say... or understand. She desperately wanted to see Kai again, but the thought alone left her stomach fluttering with butterflies. Which made no sense at all, right?

One afternoon, mid-way through spring, Ann found herself at Mineral Beach. The sun was beaming down and the sky was unusually clear; only a chill wind betrayed the fact that summer was still several weeks away. At one end of the shore, sat a stack of crates Ann knew to be filled with parasols and sun loungers, and she felt a tingle of excitement at the realisation that they would soon be opened.

She trailed along the old wooden pier, scuffing her trainers as she walked, stopping only inches from the edge. Here the breeze was fiercer, carrying with it a sharp, salty tang. Her eyes sought the distant horizon where, a few short weeks from now, a white blob, the size of pin-prick, would appear, growing larger and larger until it materialised into a ferry completing the final leg of its journey from the mainland.

Ann couldn't prevent a decidedly anxious grin from spreading across her face; the butterflies were back.


End file.
